


Jack shouldn't be shoved in a box

by lokasennascribe



Category: The Creatures (Youtube RPF), jacksepticeye
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassins, Dark, Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Physical Abuse, Poor Jack, attempted suicide, dark themes, it is short i am sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokasennascribe/pseuds/lokasennascribe
Summary: Closets where dark places.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda a dystopian/steampunk/assassins creed au. idk don't ask me. Anyway, not beta'd and please correct my mistakes!

**Heaven is a paradise**

 

 

Jack rolls his shoulders and cracks his fingers. He fills his lungs with a deep breath and moves forward to find his husband in the crowd.

 

 

**But not all that is gold glitters.**

 

 

Mark ignores him. Jack stands next to him all night and Mark doesn't even look at him. Jack fills his arms with others. Women who wish to dance and make merry conversations. Politicians who speak of change and glory. He spoke to charities and learned of noble causes.

 

 

**Even a golden dagger draws people.**

 

 

Mark didn't speak when they retired to their rooms. He simply looked at Jack and smirked.

 

“Why?” Jack whimpered. Mark simply shrugged and shoved Jack backwards until he was stumbling into the dark closet. He heard the doors shut and Mark lock them.

 

“I love you.” Jack whispered against the wood.

 

 

**Some love it enough to be killed by it.**

 

 

Jack smiled at the cameras. Mark nodded to a reporter. The woman blushed. Jack felt his throat tighten. Mark just dragged forward as the charity ball began.

 

 

**Yet death is not and easy escape.**

 

  
“You are so lucky. I would let him crush my head with those arms.” A lovely woman rambled on about Mark. Jack smiled.

 

“Yes he is very strong.” Jack laughed.

 

“And such a gentlemen. You must love it!” The woman patted his shoulder.

 

“I love him very much.” Jack nodded.

 

 

**It is however tempting.**

 

 

Jack probably had tied it wrong. He couldn't see well enough in the closet. SO the noose was not well done, but it could work. He threw it over the large wooden beam in the over sized closet. He secured it and made sure it would hold. He climbed up on the boxes of their clothes and items and lined himself up. It wasn't a long drop. Only a few inches off the ground, but it would work. He hugged his husbands jacket closer before letting it drop from his hands.

 

 

**But some say heaven doesn't accept murderers.**

 

 

Mark frowned at him.

 

“Rope burn on your neck won't be able to be covered up.” The man growled. Jack was silently crying. He had failed. “I keep you for a reason. People love you. I need people to love my husband and to keep thinking I am in love with him! You cannot die! I need you!” Mark shouted. Jack heart fluttered at that. Mark needed him. Mark needed him.

 

 

**But is it murder?**

 

 

Jack looked over the new factory. A pink mustache adorned the building. Another place were people would work in unsafe conditions, with little to no pay, and the female workers would go home with tears after visiting the bosses office. Jack winced at the sight of what look like glittering gold but was only hell itself. Reporters fawned over it, loving it. Jack hated it.

 

 

**Truly it is self defense.**

 

 

Mark was sitting in his office, Jack was cowered in one of the closets. Mark was working late tonight and he wanted to make sure Jack was with him. He couldn't see, so he cried. He wanted to see his husband, his love. He flexed his fingers but only winced at the broken fingers. He had tripped and that had made Mark mad. He had stomped on Jacks hand in a fit of rage. The green haired man hurt, not because of the broken hand, but because he made his husband mad. He was supposed to make him happy. Mark was never happy.

 

Suddenly a crash sounded out. Jack heard Mark screaming and others yelling back. Jack tried to stand but his body buckled underneath him. His back and his legs screamed for him not to move. Jack ignored them and stood anyway.

 

“Mark!” Jack screamed. Nothing.

 

 

**Or a rescue.**

 

 

Jack was forcing himself to stand as the doors flew open. His weight and lack of balance caused him to fall forward. Someone in a complicated cloak caught him. Jack looked towards to desk to see Mark, laying still and cold.

 

“Sean Fischbach?” A deep smooth voice asked.

 

“My husband is dead.” Jack whispered before he tore from this mans arms and dove forward. “Wake up, Wake Up!” Jack screamed, shaking him until his legs gave out and he fell down.

 

“You are bleeding.” Another cloak person spoke up.

 

“You killed him.” Jack sobbed.

 

“He was going to do the same to you one day.” The first person spoke. Jack looked at them to see the crest of assassins pinned to their belts.

 

“Don't act like you did this to help anyone but yourselves.” Jack hissed.

 

“We did it to help you.” Was the calm answer.

 

 

**So if heaven is not paradise, then maybe hell is not agony.**

 

 

Jack looked across the city. Three years ago he would probably be stuffed away in a closet, now he stood at the end of a plank, ready to dive. The city was silent but the factories still run.


End file.
